The Capitol's Games
by mismarymack
Summary: Finnick Odair OC. Finnick's previous win has put a strain on the friendship with district 4 friend from home, Evelyn Boyd. But when Evelyn is reaped, will the games pull them together or pull them farther apart? And what does President Snow have in store for them and the rest of Panem? Inspired heavily by The Hunger Games and the movie "The Purge".
1. Chapter 1

All I want to do now is lie in the water and float. I don't worry about chores or schoolwork: the reaping is tomorrow and the odds are not, by any means, in my favor.

I listen to the ocean floor below and for minute I wish that the current would take me and pull me under.

"24", I whisper and wonder how it accumulated this year. Tesserae were collected for some food... but mostly for Hana's medicine—but I have no one to blame but myself because no one ever held me responsible for Hana and her illness.

_There are careers, though,_ I tell myself, _people who are born and raised for The Games._

I think of the careers and how they would never pass up the chance to volunteer for The Games: their egos wouldn't allow anything less. As I picture them, I feel the tension in my muscle loosen and relax; and for one moment I let body sink slowly to the sea floor…


	2. Chapter 2

My eyes pull away from the sudden flash of light glaring into my face. I feel my shoulders being shaken by two angry hands.

He's clearly upset because I can see his face clearly now. As the seawater runs out of my ears, I can hear him clearly too.

"What the hell, Eva! Do you have any idea what would've- what the hell were you thinking? Dammit, Eva!"

I let him yell at me for a little while longer until he has nothing left to say.

Then I hoist myself up onto my elbows, and that is when I notice that it's nighttime and that we are under our tree.

I'm embarrassed, but there's not much I can say except, "I'm sorry, Finn".

He glares at me through fiery eyes, "You have no idea what that would have done to me."

"It obviously would have made you upset," I bite my lip and make an attempt at another apology, but fail miserably.

He forces a painfully sarcastic laugh, "Upset? You're kidding. Please, please tell me you're joking, Ivy."

_Ivy_. I hate that nickname, and it's only been used by the bullies at school… and Finnick… when he's upset with me.

I begin to explain, "I get that you're upset now but-"

"I'm not upset, I'm torn apart." Finn turns his head away from mine, so that I don't see his face, "what were you thinking?"

I sigh, wondering how I'm supposed to talk myself out of this one, so I start with the truth, "I was thinking that the reaping was tomorrow, and that I haven't seen your face in a year, and how my name is in there 24 times-"

Finnick shakes his head unsatisfied, "You don't have to worry about the reaping, Eva, the careers-"

"You weren't a career", I remind him.

He grabs my hand impatiently, "That year was different, and… we're different, you don't have the same luck as I did."

I shake my head slowly and sigh, "We're a lot more alike than you think."

Finn wraps me in his jacket and walks me to my house; he doesn't say a word until we get to the front door. I motion to slip off his jacket.

"Keep it. I'll see you tomorrow at the reaping," he pauses and grins at me, "I'll be on stage, the cute one left of the mayor."

Finn's rage has left his eyes now, so they are much more easier to look at.

"I'll be the girl trembling in her dress," I sigh.

He chuckles, "Doesn't help with finding you in the crowd, but honestly," he slides his hand into mine, intertwining his fingers with my slender, calloused ones, "You have nothing to worry about, I promise."

I shake my head, still doubting him.

Times have changed and Finnick has faith in the Capitol—a faith that I don't share...


	3. Chapter 3

It's morning, and I remember the reaping is today. My family is all dressed and eating warm bread with grilled cod, pineapple, coconut milk and roasted almonds: this was our special meal for a trying day.

I avoid all eye contact with my parents, as I'm sure that my late arrival last night did not go unnoticed, and I would like very much not to inform them of my near suicide experience.

"So Eva, you stayed out late last night. Where were you?" My father looks up curiously from his plate.

I nod because I was expecting a questionnaire; "I ran into Finnick Odair on the beach, you remember Finn."

My mother and father exchange a glance; my mother takes over, "What took you so long to get home?"

"You know," I shrug, hoping a pause will give me chance to come up with something, "we had to catch up and I didn't notice the time-"

Father interjects, "You couldn't wait until after the reaping?"

I push around the shredded coconut on my plate, "I might not be here after the reaping."

Mother slams her hands on the table. Hana's face whitens and her eyes look over to our trembling mother.

"The careers are volunteering this year, Eva, you know that," Father speaks in a hushed tone, not wanting to infuriate my mother more.

Hana joins in, "Even if you do get reaped, a career will want to take your place—it's what they do."

I cannot bear to look at Hana anymore. I remember when she was healthy, vibrant, and beautiful, but then she got sick and her red hair became muted and her eyes lost their youthful glimmer, her once glowing skin now blends in with the dingy white wallpaper in the house. She is weak and I am a coward because I cannot watch her anymore now that she is shaking from a breeze that no one else feels.

I stand up, collect myself, and make my way to the door "I'll see you at the reaping, love you," and I leave.

All around the square are solemn faces, some are crying and others a frozen with fear. I sign in, and make my way to my age group. From where I'm standing I can see the stage and the bowls and the seats that are designated for the mayor, the district officials, the district 4 escort, and Finnick.

The air is thick, wet and humid, and when the music starts, the escort walks across the stage fanning herself. Behind her are the mayor and Finnick. He still looks tall and muscular. He is wearing clothes that scream "The Capitol" and his usually bronze tossed hair is cleanly combed back.

I remember when we used to laugh at people dressed that way.

I am not able to catch Finnick's eye, but I can see him scanning the crowd for me, and I am almost tempted to scream out his name. Almost. The mayor makes the same speech about District 4 and the origins of the Hunger Games that he does every year. He hands over the microphone to district 4's escort and she begins the reaping, and wishes us luck:

"And may the odds be ever in your favor."

She makes her way over to the boys' bowl, "Colburn Ervin". The crowd separates, moving away from the boy. As he walks by me, my heart sinks and I can see that he is sure to die in the arena—unless a career volunteers. The boy is young, 13 perhaps, and has a small, lanky build, but that is not what has condemned him: he limps with a disfigured leg, and I remember now that he is the same boy that had swam passed the second sandbar and ran into a rather hungry shark.

He finds difficulty climbing the stairs, but Finnick mercifully leads him up to the stage beside district 4's escort. Colburn thanks Finnick with a meager smile.

"And now for the ladies," the escort makes her way over to the other podium.

_24_.

Her hand dips into the clear, glistening glass bowl.

_24._

Her fingers roam across the sealed papers, containing the names of the all the children of district 4.

_24._

The tips of her nails brush by one and then another until it pauses above one.

_24._

There is no way of knowing who the paper belongs to but it's someone in the crowd.

_24._

She lifts the paper to her eyes and peels back the black tape that binds the paper closed.

_24._

"Evelyn Boyd."

_Did I hear her right?_

"Evelyn, dear, come up to the stage," she is holds out her arm in my direction, inviting me to the podium. The crowd shrinks away from me like they did with Colburn Ervin. I take one step and then another towards the stage, letting my feet guide my body without thinking.

"That's right my dear, come right on up."

When I get to the stairs I notice that Finnick sees me now. His sea green eyes are threatening tears and are no longer the carefree and seducing pair that I know so well. The color from his face his gone and he swallowing like his mouth has gone dry.

District 4's escort then asks the crowd if there are any volunteers. A hand is raised in the crowd, and a cheer erupts amongst the people.

I observe my new competitor: he is 6'2, muscular, and has a thirst for blood—my blood.

Colburn Ervin limps off the stage and back into the embrace of his peers. Five minutes have gone by and there are no other careers willing to volunteer.

The escort erupts into the microphone, "We have district 4's 69th Hunger Games tributes! Evelyn Boyd and Azmus Lyre!"

I am able to catch a glimpse of a few faces before I am whisked away.

My mother has buried her face into my father's shoulder and he is also crying with Hana is frozen beside him.

Azmus is glaring at me, making his desire to kill me evident in his eyes.

And then Finnick.

I cannot see him in all the commotion, but I can hear what he is calling out to me:

"I'm sorry."


	4. Chapter 4

The walls are ornate and encrusted with gold decals. The loveseat is of a cranberry color, with golden pillows gracing its arms. A chandelier hangs delicately above my head, and appears to be floating in midair, with teardrop cuts of glass bedecking every arch and reflecting every beam of light into a thousand speckles of light cascading across the walls. The coffee table is lined with tarts, chocolates, and dumplings and small cakes. But I have no appetite. In my head, all I can see is Azmus's eyes willing me dead.

I'm admiring a grand bookcase, when six frantic knocks on the door shake my focus.

"Evelyn," My mother scurries over to where I am sitting before I am able to stand up.

Instinctively, I throw my arms around her. We sit holding each other for some time until she loosens her grip, "You just worry about coming home, alright sweetie? Don't you worry about Hana, sweetie, worry about being safe. Do you hear me, Evelyn? Do you understand me?"

I nod my head quickly, wishing to hold her until the guards come.

"And when you come back, we'll all be waiting for you," My mother whispers as she pats down my mangled hair. When I do not respond, I hear my mother's breathing become irregular, "You promise me now that you won't quit in that arena."

I look up and see that she is crying again.

"I promise," and I try not to cry but I feel blood rush to my cheeks.

The door swings open and she is torn from me.

I sit quietly for a long time, attempting to meditate and clear my mind of past-televised Hunger Games. It is not until the room turns dark and the lights automatically turn on that I notice how long I've been waiting in the room.

My stomach grumbles and I reach for a fruit tart that has been sitting on the coffee table all afternoon—but I don't care. I stuff the entire tart into my mouth and nearly choke. The door then opens and closes without warning.

Finnick Odair is staring down at me from across the room. He is my mentor for the Hunger Games, but right now he is much more.

"I'm sorry," he whimpers, his face hangs heavy with guilt and is drowned out of color. His lips are still dry and for a moment he reminds me of a dying fish: hopeless and ashamed.

I stand up and inch slowly closer to him, "It's alright."

Still all he can manage to do is stand frozen, like Hana, and say, "I'm so sorry, Evelyn."

Without taking him out of his trance, I entangle his hands into mine and guide him to the loveseat. I rest his head on my lap and run my fingers through his bronze hair, like I used to years ago on the beach underneath our tree. Then, I can finally see him coming back to me.

"Eva, I'm going to help you, okay? But listen, and you've got to listen me" He sits up, his face inches from mine, "—you have to do everything I tell you, alright? You do everything I tell you and I promise you'll go home to your parents and Hana," He lifts his hand to my face, "You trust me, right?"

I close my eyes, focusing on the small place where his warm fingers are stroking the side of my face, "Of course I trust you."

I open my eyes, and he is watching my face, "Can I just add that 'I told you so'? Or is it too soon?"

Finnick gives a half-hearted smile, still pained by my reaping, "Way too soon—wait till after you're home."

The door opens again and Finnick takes his leave. Minutes later the district 4 escort comes to take me to the Capitol.


	5. Chapter 5

The train shoots silently through districts. I am sitting in the main car, and again I am surrounded with sweets and treats, and the smell of peppermint. The entrance door slides open and district 4's escort along with Azmus stroll in. The escort takes time to examine the room and I do not know what she is doing at first, then I realize she is taking time to decide where to sit. She sits in the seat facing me, while Azmus remains in a corner of the room.

"This sure is exciting," she adds with a smile, attempting to spark a conversation. Lost in my thoughts, I can only bring myself to nod.

"I mean, we may have a victor this year if Azmus is able to work with the other careers," of course she is talking about Azmus. His shirt looks like it's barely able to contain his rippling monstrous muscles, and he would easily tower over Finnick.

Finnick.

_Where is he?_

I have not seen him since he visited me after the reaping.

"Do you know where our mentor is?"

The escort nods her head gratefully, as it is obvious that awkward lulls make her uncomfortable, "Mr. Odair is coming shortly. He is collecting himself. When he does arrive, I suggest that you ask him any and all questions about The Games—that is what he is here for, so utilize him," she turns to the career, "you too Azmus, make sure you obtain every bit of knowledge possible about The Games."

Azmus shakes his head with an arrogant smile —he doesn't need it and he knows it.

"Have you two decided whether you want to train together, or separately?" She adds.

For the first time, since I've known him these past couple of hours, he speaks, "I train alone, I work alone, and I fight alone."

The escort politely smiles, but it's a philanthropic smile and I wait for her to _'enlighten'_ him, "I admire your independent streak, Azmus, but I don't recommend it. I do believe that it should be in your best interest to form an alliance with the other careers."

"I agree."

Finnick managed to sneak in, undetected.

"Oh, Finnick. Here are our tributes, and we seem to have a career this year. Isn't that nice?" The escort pats down her glimmering skirt, and adjusts her hat. Finnick crosses the room, his arms folded across his chest, "We might actually win this year." He sits beside her, but he is watching me. He isn't talking about Azmus winning.

She shifts closer to him; "Azmus here doesn't… play well with others. He wants to be trained separately." "That's fine. I'll designate time with each of you, in the mean time I'll give you some basic rules of survival," he rests his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together, "sponsoring is key. So why don't we start with telling me your strengths. That way I can market you guys better. Azmus Lyre," he is glaring at Azmus, and licking his lips. He reminds me of a bull now, kicking back dirt and stomping on the ground, posing to strike, "You're a big guy. What can you do?"

Azmus stares back at him and then at me, "I like swords."


	6. Chapter 6

It is nighttime now; Finnick and Azmus are sitting together, talking in the main car when I decide to try to go to sleep. Finnick does not look up from Azmus when I get up to leave.

Isn't he supposed to be training me? Azmus hardly needs any assistance—what he lacks in brain cells he makes up for in shear strength.

But no.

In the morning, when I go to the main car for breakfast, Finnick and Azmus are still talking, in the same clothes when I left them the night before. They had stayed up all night… talking.

I feel my cheeks start to burn, and my eyes sting with a feeling of betrayal.

"Ahem," I am standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

Finnick's head snaps up, "There's breakfast on the table, by the bouquet," he immediately redirects his attention back to Azmus, "So as I was saying, by the third day-"

"Could I join you two?"

Both Azmus and Finnick are watching me now.

"Why?" Azmus answers when Finnick doesn't. I turn to Finnick, looking for him to back me up, but he doesn't.

"When I said I work alone, I meant it," Azmus growls, "I work alone," he puts extra emphasis on the word "alone".

"Actually, I wasn't talking to you," I look back to Finnick again and Azmus looks at him too. We are waiting for his consensus. He sighs and shakes his head, then looks down at the floor.

"I'm a career, you're supposed to be working with me," Azmus grumbles and sits back into the couch.

There is a long lull. Finnick still hasn't spoken up for me, like he normally would.

_What's wrong with him?_

He is not sticking to our plan, the plan where I don't get killed, or maybe he forgot that bit. Azmus perceives Finnick's silence as being in agreement with him, so he grins. He infuriates me. He knows he is going to win with or without a mentor, but survival doesn't satisfy him enough—he wants to make sure that I don't even stand a chance against the others. The same apparent (and random) hatred he has for me, I feel for him. My morals no longer constrain me: if given the opportunity, I would kill him without hesitation.

"I didn't know being a career gave you a license to be a dickwad."

I could have called him a pompous dolt and gotten away with it, but I'm pretty sure he knows what a dickwad is. Azmus juts up from the couch and I realize that nothing is stopping him from simply twisting my head and snapping my neck.

Not the guards,

Not even Finnick…

"What is going on here!"

The escort is horrified and maybe even insulted by what she sees: me sitting and frozen, probably with a pathetic terrified look slapped across my face; Azmus' muscles all flexed and bulging underneath his tightly fitted shirt, poised and ready to strike; and Finnick breathing sharply with his nostrils flared, his eyes shifting from me back to Azmus, blazing with the same rage he had just two nights ago.

"Rosyn, please help me out here," Finnick motions her over. Azmus is still stiff and hovering over me.

Rosyn, the 5'3 escort, slips into the space between us and aggressively nudges Azmus, towering at about 6'4, to stand down, "Now, this is no way to behave!" She chastises him; "Sponsors will not fund a brute, Azmus, not with manners like those!"

Azmus grunts, as a dog would, and turns to leave the dining car. Finnick stands up and begins to follow but pauses in the doorway and sighs, "You need to stop, Ivy, and use your head." I open my mouth to protest but he shakes his head impatiently and walks out of the main dining car. I am angry with him as he is with me, but he is my only comfort and as much as I feel Finnick is being unfair, I want him to stay.

Rosyn scans her electric purple eyes across the room, "I don't know if Mr. Odair had the opportunity to inform you before the… mess… but arrangements have been made and consequently he has been assigned privately to work only with Azmus, at least for the time being," she pauses and sits next to me, "Do you understand? You will work with another mentor. She should be arriving any moment now."

My mouth goes dry, but before I let myself assume the worst, I am able to regain all rationality. This all has to be part of the plan, it just has to- Finnick wouldn't promise me something as serious as he did, just to dump me with some stranger mentor… The Finnick Odair I know wouldn't… I just hope that Finn knows what he's doing- he told me to trust him so this is me trusting him…

An old woman appears in the room. Rosyn greets her with gentle kisses to the sides of each cheek. I had never paid much attention to her before but as the old woman staggers over to a chair, I begin to recognize her from past reapings as a District 4 mentor. Mags.

Mags is very interesting. We spend the whole afternoon alone talking about District 4, hooks and knots. She is old, definitely in her 70's, but sharp as a knife, and she is very sweet. I am still anxious: when I ask her about her own experiences in the Games, she just ignores me. I wonder what Finnick is doing with Azmus right now… what special survival skills is Azmus learning that I'm not?

Then I notice that Mags has fallen asleep in her chair while I've zoned out for the past ten minutes. I creep out of the dining car as quietly as possible, to not wake Mags, and do a little exploring… and if I so happen to find Finnick in the process… well that's alright too.

The train is larger now that I'm walking from car to car. One room is more lavish than the next, and then I wonder…

_What the __hell__ am I doing?_

Honestly, I don't know. I have no idea what is supposed to happen once the train stops, who I'm supposed to talk to or what I'm supposed to say in my interview with Caesar Flickerman! I'm like a lost puppy… and now I have no idea where I am on this damn train!

I can't even go back to my room if I wanted to. I have no sense of what part of the train I am in and that's when I feel the car shake and jerk to its side.

Everything shoots off the elaborate tables and crashes to the wood floors. Glass is everywhere and the chandelier is swinging and rotating at an angle. The train slows and the lights flicker off. Through the window I can see that the front cars of the train has derailed into a massive body of water below… and seems to be pulling the rest of the train with it…

My only thought now is to find Finnick.


	7. Chapter 7

I try my best to run from car to car in the dark, but it's difficult and I find myself stumbling and grasping onto the walls for support. All the while I'm screaming for Finnick, but no one responds. I call for Mags and Rosyn too.

Nothing.

The train begins to swing from side to side and continues to slide forward.

_Where is everyone?_

"Finnick!"

Still no response. And the train is still falling from its suspended rails, sinking into the water below. It's getting hotter as smoke is building up. Whoever stays in this train will die- there is no doubt about that. All I can think to do is to make it to the back of the train and hope Finnick is somewhere in the rear cars. And I realize that's all I can do- that's really the only _rational_choice I have…

I race to the back, listening for anyone who could be in the cars, but I hear nothing. All I can hear is my footsteps pounding against metal, and the eerie sound of the cars buckling on the rails.

"Eva?"

I hear Finnick from behind me, he is very far away, and I am _so close_ to the back of the train…

Of course I go back: leaving Finnick behind is not an option.

I sprint as fast as I possibly can towards his voice without falling face first into the mess of the cars.

"Finn?" I think I hear commotion from a few cars back.

"Over here! I'm stuck!"

His car is nearly completely on its side. Couches and bottles and pillows are scattered everywhere.

"Eva here."

Pushing a large chair out of the way, I can see that Finnick is pinned underneath a large wooden office desk. His sea green eyes meet mine.

He tries desperately to yank his leg loose, "The damn thing won't budge."

Finnick counts to three and we both try to lift it. It moves three inches and settles back onto his leg.

He lies on his back and mutters underneath his breath, "Alright," he nods, "Okay. Eva once you get to the back of the train-"

"No."

Finnick's voice quivers and his eyebrows furrow together, "Don't tell me 'no'. Go to the back of the train, there's assistance there."

The car begins to shake. My lungs start to rattle inside of me; the smoke is starting to become unbearable. I shake my head and continue throwing my weight at the desk.

"It's not going anywhere, Eva! You need to get out of here!" Finnick is yelling at me to leave him. His hand catches my arm and shakes me to reality, "I didn't save you just to have you die two days later, dammit! Haul your ass out of here!"

My voice breaks into a sob, "I'm not leaving you here! Not alone!"

Finnick's eyes look like they did the day of my reaping. His nose reddens like it does when he's about to cry or when he's really upset- and right now he's both.

"Damn, you're stubborn," a stray tear rolls down his face, but he grins at me.

I wouldn't die any other way than beside him and he knows it.

I lie down beside him and rest my head on his trembling chest, "You know, you've been a real asshole lately."

His chest bounces as he laughs, "You haven't been exactly easy to deal with either."

I close my eyes to keep out the smoke and I feel a light pressure on my lips.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do that," Finnick lays his head back onto the floor, keeping his eyes glued to mine.

The train car shifts again.

Finnick lifts his hand and places it softly on the side of my face. My skin vibrates underneath the warmth of his rough fingertips, "It's time for you to go, Eva."

"I'm not going anywhere."


	8. Chapter 8

_**CHAPTER 8 PREVIEW!**_

**(HEY GUYS! I JUST WANTED TO THANK YOU GUYS FOR FOLLOWING THE CAPITOL'S GAMES. I'M SORRY FOR LEAVING YOU GUYS WITHOUT A WORD. I WILL NOW TRY TO HAVE A NEW CHAPTER UP FOR YOU GUYS ONCE A WEEK. I'LL LET YOU GUYS KNOW IF ANYTHING COMES UP, IF I MISS THE DEADLINE. ANYWAYS, HERE IS A PREVIEW OF THE NEXT CHAPTER: CHAPTER 8. ENJOY! YOURS TRULY- *MARY_MACK*)**_  
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_I'm not going anywhere… I'm not going anywhere…. I'm not going anywhere_

My eyes refuse to open. I think back to two days ago, when Finnick pulled me out of the ocean and onto the beach. Déjà vu. I must be out of the train. Someone had to have pulled me out…But what about Finn? What if they couldn't get him loose and decided to leave him…

I have to get to him.

I'm not able to move my body completely, so I do what I can and I roll on my side carefully. Before I am able to lift my arms, I feel two cold rubber hands clasp my shoulders. I try to thrash and scream, and it's then when my eyes flutter open.I don't recognize a single face in the room and still I try to process them. They don't look like the people back in District 4.

No… these people have cat-eyes and purple skin… their clothes are metallic and bright… these people look like Rosyn… and then a tiny pinch and I'm back under...


	9. Chapter 9

_I'm not going anywhere… I'm not going anywhere…. I'm not going anywhere_

My eyes refuse to open. I think back to two days ago, when Finnick pulled me out of the ocean and onto the beach. Déjà vu.

I must be out of the train. Someone had to have pulled me out…

But what about Finn? What if they couldn't get him loose and decided to leave him…

I have to get to him.

I'm not able to move my body completely, so I roll on my side carefully. Before I am able to lift my arms, I feel two rubber hands clasp my shoulders. I try to thrash and scream, and it's then when my eyes flutter open.

I don't recognize a single face in the room and still I try to process them. They don't look like the people back in District 4.

No… these people have cat-eyes and purple skin… their clothes are metallic and bright… these people look like Rosyn…

Then a tiny pinch and I'm back under…

I wake up, and my mouth is dry. My fingertips are buzzing and dead. Again, my first thought is to find Finnick.

"It's ruined. Look at the ends. They're singed. But then what does one expect having survived a train crash?"

"Maybe the color is salvageable. Do you think we could still use her color?"

I try to speak but it is as if my body has shut down on itself.

"No, definitely not. We're just going to have to scrap the whole thing and start over. Octavia, can you set her hair just a shade darker? Try the 7.6."

"7.6? That's a bit bold, even for a district 4 girl."

I try to yell and scream, I even feel the muscles and the veins in my neck bulging, but it comes out has a whisper.

"I didn't ask for commentary, Octavia. I just asked you to set her hair."

"The sponsors are never going to believe that 7.6 is her natural color… Flavius, she's awake."

A purple girl gently slides a rubber disk that encases my tongue.

"Engaging the cognizant-protoplasm respirator, 450 v."

The bed below me begins to shake; the metal room is swirling and then… I notice I am the one who is shaking. My head rattles against the pillows. I'm convinced my eyes are going to pop and turn into jelly. But then I cannot breathe. My muscles are expanding. I keep on imagining my heart bursting.

"Stop!" I cry, "Please!"

The shocks increase. My muscles feel like sandpaper, scratching against my skin and bones. I feel like I'm going to combust and turn into flames. I try to scream again, but I don't have the strength like I had before. Instead, I close my eyes and just quake violently and silently. I try to find comfort in the memory of the brief kiss Finnick and I had shared before I blacked out… All I can do is wait until they-

"Disengaging CPR."

I'm still rattling against bed when the machine is turned off. Flavius and Octavia stand silently by me for the next few minutes, observing my convulsions, they begin to work on me when the shaking turns into a slight tremble.

"Sorry about that. I know that's the last thing you need after a train crash, but, you know, it's protocol," Octavia begins handling my hair.

"Where- where" is all I'm able to mumble.

Octavia grins, "You're in The Capitol. I'm part of your prep team."

"No," I whisper, "where's my mentor?"

"Mags is fine, dear. I even hear she was one of the first ones to escape the train. Imagine that!"

I lift my head slightly to glance at the room, "I need to get out of here."

"As soon as you're hair is perfect, which may take a while, so relax and make yourself comfortable, dear."

Finn could be dead by then…

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 000

I probably stood in front of the mirror for 10 minutes after my hair was finished. Back in District 4, the people all work in the sun, so naturally we all have golden highlights; that is what always made Finnick's hair so golden and bronze. My thoughts immediately go to our kiss on the train… My hair had always been a copper color. But now, it's a deep electric red. My teeth are whiter, my lashes are longer, I now have a golden tone, and I look… good.

This is all I can do since I have been locked in a cell like room with nothing but a glass of water- which was gone in 2 minutes, a chair, and a mirror.

The walls are made out of a shiny metal. The room feels cold and bare. The door opens.

Azmus is standing in the door way.

_How did he manage to find me? _

I wonder if he is allowed to kill me before the games, or if there is anything keeping him from killing me. His face doesn't resemble anything of the rage from before…

"I'm glad to see you're all in one piece" He is inspecting me from across the room.

I am nearly speechless, "Excuse me?"

He takes a step into the room and closes the door behind him, but keeps his distance, "Well, a lot of people went missing. Rosyn didn't make it-"

"Rosyn didn't make it?" My throat goes heavy. I wonder if she has any family, and what they are going through right now, if maybe she had a sister that she cared so desperately for and if maybe she was just trying to survive, like me. Back in district 4, when someone dies, we bury them in boxes made from the same wood we use to make the boats.

"No. But you recuperated nicely,"

"You mean you're not here to kill me?"

This amuses him, "No, I'm not going to kill you."

I'm preparing myself for a surprise attack, searching the empty room for anything that I could possibly use as a weapon, "Don't act like it's that far-fetched."

He laughs now, "I'm the one who pulled you from the train, why would I kill you?"

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 000000000000000

"I want to see him"

A man in the lab coat with a clipboard is blocking the glass door, "I'm sorry but he's in a delicate stage right now."

I try to slip past him but he blocks me, "I don't care, I need to see him"

He slides his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, "It's not possible at this moment in time!"

"I'm the only one he knows, please!"

Someone is walking down the long metal hallway in the same uniform, "Wren, just let her in."

Wren doesn't say a word and waves his hand across a screen that flashes blue. The room is lined with metal and monitors and screens. Everything looks so clean and perfect.

I ask Wren, "Is the mentor from district 4 here?"

"Mr. Odair is in room 67032A, down that hallway, take a left, take the stairs down one level and then take two rights. It should be on the left," He adds with a smile and turns and walks away.

I notice quickly that this building is much larger than the train, and I hope not to get lost. I'm at the stairs and turn on the 81st floor… _wait, that can't be right-82 floors?_

I'm on the floor and I see the first right. My heart is beating wildly and I wonder for the first time about Finnick's condition; Wren had mentioned his "delicate condition"- but what is that supposed to mean? He could be missing a leg or a hand, or part of his face…

But I would love him still, in any condition- even if he's missing a limb or two…

I'm at the end of the hall way and there is a next turn. _Was it a right or a left?_ How could I forget?!

"Dammit!"

"Could I help you?" A woman in a lab coat has her head popped out of an opened door.

"Room 67 uh… 32A"

"There is no 6732A on this floor. There is a 67332A and a 67032A, but no-"

"That's it! Room 67032A, where is it?"

"Take a right and it's on the left"

I'm in a full sprint and I shout thank you.

The room is a large version of my cell that I had been locked up in. From far away I can hear him. He is shouting at someone.

"Would you stop! Can you stop please?"

"With what?" someone asks.

"With the poking and prodding! You've been poking and prodding me all day- can you give me a minute to myself please! Just a minute?!"

"I can't even deal with this anymore! I don't have to be here."

"Yeah? Then get out! Get the fuck out and leave me alone."

"Oh, I'm leaving alright!"

"Bye!"

A woman comes storming down the hallway and nearly runs into me. I follow the direction from which she had come from and I enter his room. He is in white cotton pants, his chest is bare and there are small tubes attached to his arms. I've never seen him like this: tired, with bags under his eyes, his arms and torso are badly bruised with stitches all over his chest and hands.

Finnick glares at me, his eyes don't recognize my face, "What do you want?"

"Finnick Odair," I am restraining myself with inexplicable strength.

"Yeah? Well, he's not here." He settles his head on his pillow.

"Finn, it's me," I say almost impatiently. I am taking cautious steps up to him.

He scans me again, "You're not… Eva?"

I nod slowly.

He sits up in his bed and tucks a piece of hair out of my face, "Oh god," he sighs. His lips are shaking, mine are too. Suddenly, I am tight in his arms. I can feel his heart racing against my chest as he presses his lips to mine. His hands slide down my back to my thighs and lifts me. I am straddling him and his eyelashes are tickling my cheek. I forget to take a breath and I gasp. He is gasping too, "We've got a lot of work to do," he kisses me and takes another a breath, "I guess we can start in the morning."

I press my index finger to his lips, "Azmus told me everything, by the way."

His eyes are looking greedily to my mouth, "Yeah? What'd he tell you?"


	10. Chapter 10

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'?"

"Let me clarify: 'hell no'"

"You can't just say 'no', Finn!"

"NO!"

Azmus sighs, "Forget it, Evelyn,"

I get down on my knees, at eye level with Finnick, "It can still work,"

He stands up and crosses the room, "No way, Ivy. You saw what they did to the train? That's only the beginning and if that's only the beginning, imagine what we'll look like once they're done with us. I'll just have to train you harder."

"She doesn't stand a chance and you know it. If we stop now, I might as well just kill her myself," Azmus says coldly.

Finnick's face is like ice before it breaks, scary calm, "You try that and see what happens."

"Why are you so scared? This isn't the same guy who put this plan into motion."

"You didn't see the things I saw, Azmus! You know what they do to guys like you? They hurt you in places that you never knew existed," Finnick takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, " And they plan all day in their lab coats new fucked-up ways to make you scream. But you don't die- not yet. I've seen them keep the upper body of a guy alive for 2 weeks."

"You think I give a shit about what they do to me? You think the starving, and angry people in the districts give a shit about what happens to them? This is war, Finnick. Everyone's got to make sacrifices," just then Azmus glances at me and then turns back to Finn, "and since when have you EVER let your fear get in the way of what is right?"

Finnick looks exhausted and takes a seat. There's a long silence. I sit beside him and place my hand in his. My hand looks small in his... and our fingers interweave perfectly like they were meant to touch each other, "This is exactly what The Capitol wants, they want you to be afraid, Finn. Don't give in."

Finnick mutters, almost inaudibly, "'Until Victory, Always'."

"If they thought we had anything to do with the uprising, we wouldn't be here right now. They're cautious and they're keeping an eye on us, but we just have to be more careful. Azmus is still in, have you heard anything from the other tributes or mentors?"

Azmus nods robotically, "Joila is in. I know Paxen and Brett will still be in, and if Brett's in then Aella will definitely be in,"

"Wren will still need some convincing, but I haven't heard from the others," Finnick is entertaining the idea.

"So, are we going to do this?" I ask quickly, hoping for Finnick's approval. He shrugs and fumbles with his bruised fingers, "I guess we don't have a choice,"

"Then we're actually going to do this, we're going to kidnap President Snow."

*~0~*

"President Snow, the destruction of the train 9 en route commenced successfully: 81 bodies were found, of them: 38 suspect bodies were recovered"

"And the suspect survivors?"

"Sir?"

The patience that some people require amazes even me, "The suspect survivors: where are they?"

"There are no reported suspect survivors, Mr. President," he answers a tad too quickly.

"Well, I heard about that old lady from District 4 and her young puppy: Mr. Odair with his tribute and his dainty little sweetheart- oh, what's her name?"

"Sir, they weren't documented as suspects." Again, his nerves overwhelm him as he feels my aging blue eyes examining him.

"Everyone is a suspect, you idiot. Joila, come here a moment"

Joila is a monster of a woman, taller than me in fact; with a stone face and long dark hair, if it weren't for her long curling lashes I could easily mistake her for a man—which means no distractions for me, "Mr. President?"

"I want you to prepare to interrogate our friend here, and then arrange a public execution for him at the end of the week."

"Yes Mr. President."

Joila grabs the rebel informant, he does not put up any kind of struggle, but he has a big smile slapped across his face, "How did you know?"

Joila beins walking him through the doors and just as they, I answer him, "All rebels have a similar stench to them."

*~0~*

Finnick is teaching basic fighting maneuvers- well, he's SUPPOSED to be teaching me basic fighting maneuvers, what he's actually having me do is doing sit-ups and jumping jacks. After an hour and a half, I'm out of breath and dying (figuratively of course).

"I- I can't do this any- anymore. Can't we just sk-skip to the fighting bit?" I'm tripping over my words as my lungs search desperately for more air.

"No, you're not ready."

I take a minute to regain my breath, "I'm not ready? To what: learn basic fighting skills? Key word here being: basic."

"Fine, try to get out of a basic chokehold"

"Basic wha-"

Before I'm able to finish my sentence Finnick has ever so gracefully twirled me into him with a firm arm around my neck.

"The hell, Finn! Of course I don't know how to get out of a chokehold- because you haven't taught me yet!" I say as I send a boney elbow into his side. He grunts and he releases me.

"There's also a simple knockdown," Finnick sweeps his leg behind me, and my knees buckle- just as I'm about to hit the ground, his arms are around me and they guide my body down to the mat. He moves so swiftly, almost like a dance.

Finnick pauses a moment, his golden skin dripping with sweat, every muscle engaged and shining in the metallic lighting. With him hovering above me, he looks like the Sun back in district 4- I feel my face burn when he catches me staring.

"You're enjoying this a little to much," He flashes a big, cocky grin.

"You're the one whose having a little party, throwing me all over the room like some kind of ragdoll," I'm trying to keep my face from getting any redder.

"You've always been a scrapper, Eva. I'm just trying to teach you some discipline,"

"Discipline? Discipline?! So what? So I can be obedient? Obedient to who, Finn? To you?"

I shove him off of me

"To yourself, Ivy, to yourself! You know, I still haven't forgotten that little stunt you tried to pull just 2 weeks ago back at home. Maybe if you had a little more self-discipline-"

"How is that any of your business, Finnick? Just teach me some fighting skills- that's all I asked. I didn't ask you to go and solve my pr-"

"I care about you, Eva!"

"Oh fuck off- all you care about is yourself! Every time, you leave for a year and then role in looking like the Capitol took a dump and stuck a bow on it. You're not like the rest of us. You like to think that you are, but you're not- and we all know it, and you're family knows it, and you know it too, don't you? That's why you never see them, that's why you always-"

Finnick is still sitting on the mat, but he slowly stands up, "Finish it."

I shake my head slowly.

" 'That's why you always' finish it, Evelyn."

I shake my head.

"That's why I always went to you. You always treated me like the same cocky guy I had been at the docks. Not something the Capitol shit out,"

"Finn, I-"

"Ahem," Azmus is standing by the door, "I hate to do this to you guys because I like you guys and this sounds really important, but unfortunately, Finnick, Wren is flopping around like a noodle- he really needs you, man"

Finnick looks at me for a split second before leaving the room. In that second, I could _see_ him- his person, his spirit. He was hurt. Badly. What I said was the last thing he needed to hear, especially from me. Someone he trusted mentally, physically, and emotionally. He "went" to me.

"Evelyn, I wanted to tell you this once we were alone. But the thing is, well-"

"Just spill!"

"You can't tell Finnick"

"I tell Finnick everything,"

Axmus nods, knowing this already, "I know, I know, but- maybe you'll understand after I tell you."

"You can try."


End file.
